


Getting Lucky(er)

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nook Eating, nook!Cro, tummy bulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Equius is cute, and you think he's a good fit for you, too. If only you could get him to stay around you longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Lucky(er)

Equius is cute. He likes when you remind him that you’re above him, that your blood means that he needs to bow to you and all but worship you, and you have no problem embracing your proper place over him. Plus, god, he’s got these arms and this chest and his thighs are just amazing.

He’s really hot, basically.

You only ever get him to spend a little time with you before he gets swept off by someone else (Horuss is fond of stealing him away so they can gush about hoofbeasts), so when you ask him over to your hive proper and he complies, you feel like you’ve won already.

He’s standing near the door, shuffling in his shoes and sweating up a storm, and you’re tempted to offer him a towel until you notice his eyes snap up to yours, then quickly to your feet, when you speak.

"Hey, you can relax a little, kid." You chuckle, reaching to pat his shoulder even though it’s like, dripping.

Equius ducks your hand, falling to kneel in front of you with his head down, that one broken horn the only thing off about the picture he makes. “Sir, I could not allow you to, sully yourself, by coming into contact with me. I apologize profusely for taking charge like this, but I must, to preserve your dignity.” He’s shivering a little, and it hits you then that he gets off on this.

Holy fucking fishcakes, you can work with that.

"Oh, really? The pitiful little lowblood thinks he knows what’s best for me?" You hiss, reaching down to grab a handful of that pretty hair and pull him up (still very gently, though, because you don’t honestly want to hurt him). "Did I ask your opinion? I’ll put my hands all over you if I want to."

You can actually hear him swallow before he answers. “O-of course, sir. Will I be receiving any punishment for my actions?” He sounds hopeful.

"Yes. Follow me, Zahhak." You reply, smirking, and lead him down the hall to your block, then going and sitting on the platform, your legs spread and your nook already getting a little slick.

He walks in and he’s already drenched in sweat, his hair getting frizzed with the dampness, and you almost chastise him for how he’s biting his lips. You point to the spot just in front of you, between your legs, and he rushes to kneel there, cheeks flushed blue already. You lift your foot and drop it near his crotch, pressing the ball of your foot into his thigh and watching him try not to squirm.

You keep your voice level as you speak. “Well? Undress me, Zahhak. I can’t believe I have to tell you.” He glances up as you finish speaking and you lean in to whisper that if he wants, he can leave; you mean, you stand no chance of stopping him, but you don’t want him forcing himself, either.

He nods, smiles this shy little thing, and unties your shoe. You wish you wore boots, that would really sell it, but he’s acting like your sneakers are more precious than the Empress’ horns, so you guess it’s moot. He’s careful about tugging it off your foot, too, not pulling so much as just shimmying, and it makes you want him to lose himself. He carefully rolls your sock down, then unrolls it and sets it on his leg. You set your foot on the floor, and then repeat the whole process with the other one.

His fingers are shaking when he reaches for your jeans, but he pulls them down smoothly, folds them precisely, and sets them on the floor beside himself. If you look closely, you can see little drips of blue prematerial on his inner thighs, and it makes your nook clench, slick and altogether too empty.

"Should I also remove your shirt, sir?" He asks, not looking up.

You peel it off and drop it on the floor next to him, mostly to see if he’ll fold it; he doesn’t. You press your heel against the zipper of his shorts and get a satisfying groan from him, something already squirming in his lap. “Instead of askin’ stupid questions, why don’t you use your mouth for better things?”

His hands slide up your legs and you shiver at the not-as-cold feel of them, and the callouses on his palms. You watch him, and he leans in, presses a tiny, barely-there kiss to your knee, and you feel like your chest is about to cave in, that’s fucking cute. He keeps pressing those tiny kisses up your thigh, until he gets to your nook, and he pauses. It’s only for an instant, but you can see him hesitate as he realizes that your bulge isn’t coming out because it doesn’t really exist.

Eyes closing while you wait for him to leave, you bark a startled moan when he drags his tongue flat over your nook. The next time he does it, you purr, petting through his hair, and lean back. Even if he sucks at this, it’s better than nothing, so you’re fine with waiting for a mediocre orgasm.

Hands slipping under you and pulling you against his mouth make you chirp, and then he’s buried in your nook, his tongue barely lapping at your shameglobes and his nose bumping against your pleasure nub, and you melt, curling over him and gripping his horns. You’re embarrassed at the noises you make, but you can’t help it, and neither can you help that your orgasm sneaks up on you, making you whine and rock against his mouth like you’ve never had anything near your nook.

When you manage to make yourself push him back, he’s got violet running down his chin, his tongue slipping out from between his lips to lap at it, and your nook does that clenching thing again, which is embarrassing, because you’re sure he can see it. You watch him while you catch your breath, gently moving his hands to your knees, and he makes no move to clean his face, which you come to realize is because you haven’t told him to.

"Wipe your face." You manage, fins flicking. "Then get up and take your clothes off. I bet your bulge is as big as the rest of you, huh?"

He bites his lip as he stands, pulls his shirt off to wipe his face, and pushes his shorts down his hips. You’re right too, he’s proportionate, his bulge writhing free of his sheathe and smearing b100 on his abdomen. He shivers when you reach out to touch it, and you stroke it a little, letting him struggle to stay still.

Bringing your fingers to your lips makes him gasp, and you smirk. “Come on, I don’t have all this time to waste. Get over here.”

"Yes, sir!" He chirps, accidentally letting a little smile slip over his face. God he’s cute, you’ll have to keep him around. "May I move your legs?"

You nod like you don’t care, laying back, and he shifts your thighs over his hips. His bulge pushes at your nook, slipping in easily enough after a second, and you coo as he feeds it into you, his knuckles pressing against your skin where he’s holding his bulge to keep from pushing in too fast. He’s big, it makes you want to writhe, makes him have to hold your hip to the mattress to keep you still. After what feels like eternity, his pelvis presses to your ass, his bulge still as ever inside you, and you breathe slowly to get used to it.

The sight of your lower body, when you look down to tell him he can move, makes you shudder, your nook trying to clench. There’s actually a lump in your abdomen, and pressing on it makes him squeak.

"Fuck, yes.” You sigh, rolling your hips up against him and moaning as his bulge shifts. You feel so full, it’s wonderful. “Mm, move your bulge for me, Equius.”

Almost as soon as you say it, his bulge twists, nearly doubling back on itself, and you groan, rocking yourself against him to fuck yourself on his bulge. He doesn’t need to be told to move after that, his hips rocking in a sure rhythm against you. You just grip at his arms, pulling him closer, until you’re wrapped in his hold and your mouth is pressed to the side of his neck, spilling moans that sound like a cheap pailvid.

It’s so good, it makes you forget that he’s probably getting something from this until he whimpers. “Sir, I’m g-gonna, please.” He’s asking, it makes the knot in your stomach tangle tighter.

"Nnnn-no, not until, until I do, fuck, fuck." You groan, claws biting into his shoulders as you move faster, your nook fluttering around his bulge to try and milk him.

He sobs a moan as he comes, blue spilling in you faster than you can react to, and you keen, your body locking up as you come again, claws drawing blood now. Equius is shivering, rocking his hips and panting hard, his bulge twisting slower as he comes down. You can feel your seedflap open, and you cling to him even after his bulge retracts.

"Fuck." You start, face in his neck. "That was something. I feel like I should smoke." He flushes, and you kiss his jaw. "You did great, by the way. Uh, y’know, if you want to leave, you can, but I’m not kicking you out."

Now he smiles, even laughing this deep chuckle that makes your toes curl a little. “I would appreciate an opportunity for a shower, sir.”

"Call me Cronus when we’re not fucking." You sigh, hoping that you sound nonchalant about the possibility of this happening again. "You can take a shower if you take me. I think my legs are numb."

He carries you without question, and you allow yourself to hope that he’ll spend the day there, even if he sleeps in another room or something. When you wake up in your coon with him pressed to your back, you consider it a win. You’re getting luckier, aren’t you, Ampora?

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun commission, I hope I get to do more of it.  
> if you enjoyed this, consider tipping me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


End file.
